Oh Mr. Tambourine Man play a song for me. One of my favorite happy tunes, however, it has become apparent I have never really thought that through. Tambourines are not the most soothing, universal instruments if you will. Maybe the tambourine man shouldn't be celebrated with his own song? Maybe we should sing about mimes instead? Just some food for thought. 
I left Mi Pi Chi and Melville early because I learned my lesson once and once was enough. Thanks Bangkok! (I had a slight issue with my interpretation of military time for my departing flight that led to an impromptu weighted track workout through the airport. Other passengers love the sweaty chick that they had to hold the plane for.). This meant I had a lot of time to spare in the airport. It was great though because I discovered extra Rand in my pocket!! I mean what is more fun that having the equivalent of 25 dollars that you might as well spend because there is no reason to keep it? It is kind of like "free money".
There was only one thing to do with it: buy all the Biltong I could carry in the duty free shop.
Only to be told at that checkout counter that the U.S. doesn't allow it to be brought back in to the country.
Wait!! What? This can only be a conspiracy to keep all Americans from understanding how much better beef jerky could be. There is no other reason that this could be a thing. Okay well actually there is apparently a fair amount of reasons having to do with the spread of disease and if I had a valid meat inspection certificate from a certified national agency then I could have brought it in.
I figure Biltong is so delicious and wonderful, if South Africa was running it's A game there would be a man behind a card table right outside or maybe even inside duty free certifying and stamping everyone. I still can't believe something that amazing would ever dare to be diseased.
Wait!! What? This can only be a conspiracy to keep all Americans from understanding how much better beef jerky could be. There is no other reason that this could be a thing. Okay well actually there is apparently a fair amount of reasons having to do with the spread of disease and if I had a valid meat inspection certificate from a certified national agency then I could have brought it in.
I figure Biltong is so delicious and wonderful, if South Africa was running it's A game there would be a man behind a card table right outside or maybe even inside duty free certifying and stamping everyone. I still can't believe something that amazing would ever dare to be diseased.
After the Great Biltong Deprivation of 2016, I moved on to gummy candy because why not? Gummy candy got me through the most difficult of sleep deprivation in residency, so in it's own way it is magic. If you know me you also know I love trying other countries gummy candies.
Shortly after partying ways with the last of my change (my backpack was now difficult to zip because I needed to be able to share the magic), I boarded my flight to Atlanta. Within minutes I discovered that my entertainment system didn't work and on my very full flight there wasn't much that could be done about that. Bummer. My life would be void of all of the movies I said I wanted to see but would not actually watch in any other circumstance.
Shortly after we took off there was a high-pitched squeal that can only come from the larynx of a 2-6 year-old child in the row directly behind me. I looked through the seats and saw identical twin girls who I would later find out to be 4 years of age. One was head-phoned and completely absorbed in her iPad. The other was gearing up for a follow up squeal with clenched fists and a pinched, red face.
I then watched the unbelievable happen, one of the most egregious acts that can be performed in an enclosed space with other humans. Her mother who was pregnant and #didnotgiveany__(insertwordofchoicehere) handed her a tambourine. A. Tambourine.
Let's take a moment to be clear about the rules of life and human engagement: There is no moment in life where it is the correct action to hand a 4 year old child a percussion instrument on a mostly full 16 hour flight. Never. Ever. Never.
To the mom's credit it did stop the screeching. However, it was only seconds before she began playing and simultaneously kicking the seat of the poor 80 year-old man in front her. To his credit he lasted almost 45 min before he stood up and whipped around like ninja (he had been wheeled onto he plane) and took the tambourine from her in one graceful motion. Before she could respond with blood curdling screams (and she would), he began to yell at her while her mother remained absorbed in her entertainment system.
During the tambourine concert my attention had been diverted to her little sister who was providing accompanying vocals via shrieking in the middle of the aisle just to the back of my seat. I watched her almost get mowed down by flight attendants multiple times while her nanny and mom continued very focused viewing of their respective movies and the guy across the aisle from me finished 6 airplane bottles of Jack Daniels while glancing at her and wincing (Bubble over his head: Please stop. Please let me pass out. Please stop. Please let me pass out.).
After the disciplinary discussion and the removal of all that was joy, fun, and special in their lives (the tambourine), wailing commenced in all three little girls, the twins in their seats and the 2 year-old staggering in the aisle amongst the turbulence. I don't know how long I endured. Guy-across-the -aisle had two more airplane bottles and was starting to look panicked and sweaty. I think I would have made it longer if I had had access to the 100s of movies that were taunting me from all around, but I got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. So I turned around and asked the mom if I could help her in anyway. Her response: "With what?"
Ummmmmm... Bubble over my head--> your child who is playing Frogger in drink and food cart traffic? the twins who long for the comfort of a drum set like they have never longed for anything in their short lives? Your nanny who has fired herself from the situation? OR All of the above.
Instead I just introduced myself to Alexa, who turned out to be two years old and asked her if she would like to watch Minions with me. She stopped crying and said she would like that. Over the next few hours I have never been so happy about my love of animated films or their taking up way too much space on my iPad. We watched movies and learned numbers, colors, animals, or anything I could think of really (plane structure, facts about the U.S., stock tips (kidding)).
Guy-across-the-aisle toasted me. The grandparents beside me called me an angel. The flight attendants didn't run over Alexa and maim her. It worked out and the next episode of crying wasn't until landing when everyone had to have a seat belt. As I disembarked I told Alexa goodbye, wished the mom luck, and then ran towards customs where I would discover that Global Entry is the best, most wonderful way to return to the U.S. 90 seconds. No lines. All smiles.
I was excited that I just had another fantastic adventure and happy to be back and very close to home.
It was time to plan the next one
...
Shortly after we took off there was a high-pitched squeal that can only come from the larynx of a 2-6 year-old child in the row directly behind me. I looked through the seats and saw identical twin girls who I would later find out to be 4 years of age. One was head-phoned and completely absorbed in her iPad. The other was gearing up for a follow up squeal with clenched fists and a pinched, red face.
I then watched the unbelievable happen, one of the most egregious acts that can be performed in an enclosed space with other humans. Her mother who was pregnant and #didnotgiveany__(insertwordofchoicehere) handed her a tambourine. A. Tambourine.
Let's take a moment to be clear about the rules of life and human engagement: There is no moment in life where it is the correct action to hand a 4 year old child a percussion instrument on a mostly full 16 hour flight. Never. Ever. Never.
To the mom's credit it did stop the screeching. However, it was only seconds before she began playing and simultaneously kicking the seat of the poor 80 year-old man in front her. To his credit he lasted almost 45 min before he stood up and whipped around like ninja (he had been wheeled onto he plane) and took the tambourine from her in one graceful motion. Before she could respond with blood curdling screams (and she would), he began to yell at her while her mother remained absorbed in her entertainment system.
During the tambourine concert my attention had been diverted to her little sister who was providing accompanying vocals via shrieking in the middle of the aisle just to the back of my seat. I watched her almost get mowed down by flight attendants multiple times while her nanny and mom continued very focused viewing of their respective movies and the guy across the aisle from me finished 6 airplane bottles of Jack Daniels while glancing at her and wincing (Bubble over his head: Please stop. Please let me pass out. Please stop. Please let me pass out.).
After the disciplinary discussion and the removal of all that was joy, fun, and special in their lives (the tambourine), wailing commenced in all three little girls, the twins in their seats and the 2 year-old staggering in the aisle amongst the turbulence. I don't know how long I endured. Guy-across-the -aisle had two more airplane bottles and was starting to look panicked and sweaty. I think I would have made it longer if I had had access to the 100s of movies that were taunting me from all around, but I got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. So I turned around and asked the mom if I could help her in anyway. Her response: "With what?"
Ummmmmm... Bubble over my head--> your child who is playing Frogger in drink and food cart traffic? the twins who long for the comfort of a drum set like they have never longed for anything in their short lives? Your nanny who has fired herself from the situation? OR All of the above.
Instead I just introduced myself to Alexa, who turned out to be two years old and asked her if she would like to watch Minions with me. She stopped crying and said she would like that. Over the next few hours I have never been so happy about my love of animated films or their taking up way too much space on my iPad. We watched movies and learned numbers, colors, animals, or anything I could think of really (plane structure, facts about the U.S., stock tips (kidding)).Guy-across-the-aisle toasted me. The grandparents beside me called me an angel. The flight attendants didn't run over Alexa and maim her. It worked out and the next episode of crying wasn't until landing when everyone had to have a seat belt. As I disembarked I told Alexa goodbye, wished the mom luck, and then ran towards customs where I would discover that Global Entry is the best, most wonderful way to return to the U.S. 90 seconds. No lines. All smiles.
I was excited that I just had another fantastic adventure and happy to be back and very close to home.
It was time to plan the next one
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